Shiny Things
by Thunder-Nari
Summary: JayneWash. Wash has a thing for shiny, Jayne has a thing for bloody. A bit of knife and blood play.


Lookie. It's the first Firefly fic. I do love Wash. :) And Polo girl asked for a Jayne/Wash for christmas so this is what I came up with. It takes place before Firefly, a couple weeks after Jayne joined up. It's basically PWP and includes a bit of knife and blood play.

**The Shiny Things**

He remembers the first time he saw Jayne and thinking that this was going to be interesting. And, yeah, possibly in a 'we're all going to die' way. A few weeks later and he finds himself still thinking it as he watches Jayne sharpen his knives in his own hideously disgusting way that Wash knows he does just to annoy the rest of them. It always manages to work spectacularly until everyone that had been in the kitchen clears out. Wash makes sure that he isn't the last to head out, not about to be left alone in a room with the 'we're all going to die' sort of intensity and certainly not when the cause for that is playing with pointy things.

He retreats to the bridge to stare out into the black nothing of space. But even it's dotted through with little fires of hope to the people who live planet side and like to wish on them. Wash used to be one of those, once upon a time. Not anymore though. Now everything is content, he doesn't need wishes.

It doesn't stop him still staring at them. The others don't seem to appreciate the beauty. Maybe they take it for granted now after having lived with the stars or maybe they just never cared. Wash never manages to lose his wonder with them though.

"Beautiful ain't they?"

Wash jumps. Not so much at the sudden presence of someone else on the bridge but at the words and, more, at who said them. For a big guy, Jayne really shouldn't be allowed to be so quiet.

The almost sweetness of the words is numbed by the fact that Jayne is flipping a large hunting knife from hand to hand, twirling it with deadly casualness around the fingers. Wash watches in fascination that one of those fingers hasn't fallen off yet from a slip. Jayne could probably juggle knives. Of course, he can kill people with them as well. Just as well. Juggle and kill. Flip and stab. Flip and stab.

He's been staring at the knife's movements which he only notices as Jayne's hands stop their dance with that deadly blade. Wash doesn't take his gaze away though.

"…Or maybe ya just like shiny things," Jayne answers his own question a long moment later.

Wash looks up, looks sheepish, swallows and turns away again, back to the stars. He answers but he thinks he's forgotten the question now. "Yeah. Pretty."

And shiny, and deadly. Just like the knife that Jayne has taken to flipping around again. It's going to loose control and one of them is going to get hurt, probably Wash. He needs it to stop and his hand is latching onto Jayne's wrist before he can think on the idiocy of that move. The knife slips from Jayne's fingers in his surprise and Wash knew it. It slices a bloody ribbon along the skin of his wrist as it falls. Wash yelps and quickly snaps his hand back. Only to have it caught in Jayne's and held a little too tight.

"What the ruttin' hell'd you go an' do that for?" Jayne's voice is as hard as the grip he's got on Wash's hand.

Wash shakes his head, trying to ignore the flash of pain that comes from Jayne inspecting the cut. His voice is a light hiss. "Shiny things, can't resist. Ow, ow! What are-?"

He cuts off when he realizes that Jayne is staring at the rivulet of blood that's dripping down his slightly upturned wrist and onto the floor. His finger is stroking along the edge and it hurts.

Great. He had a thing with shiny and Jayne had a thing with bloody.

At least Jayne's fingers are gentle on his wrist now. Wash could tug loose if he wanted to. So why wasn't he making any move to do so? He feels lightheaded and decides that it's perfectly valid to blame that on the very minimal blood loss. The light glints off the edge of the knife where it still rests on the floor and catches Wash's eyes. He doesn't notice when Jayne is looking up at him again though it's probably only been a moment anyway, until he speaks.

"Cuts pretty deep. Might wanna get that checked out."

What Wash manages to come up with is a very articulate 'uh?' as he lifts his gaze from the knife to Jayne's face. Which may have been a mistake if the shift in Jayne's eyes is anything to go by.

"Right. Yes, checked out. I should just…go do that then."

As he moves to leave, Jayne's hand squeezes around his wrist, sending another shock of pain through him. It makes him stumble, trip over the knife on the floor, and he's falling into a very solid chest. He gasps but Jayne just holds him up and when Wash lifts his gaze from Jayne's chest to his face, he sees that smirk there. He thinks he's probably in shock from the entire situation now.

He can feel the blood still slipping sluggishly over his wrist, the pressure from Jayne's hand having staunched most of it. Now he's staring at himself in Jayne's eyes and getting a little creeped out by the view. It's much safer to drop his gaze back down to the knife.

Jayne's large hand is pressed flat between his shoulders and slides down to the small of his back, pulling them briefly together before Jayne is releasing him and stepping back. Wash stumbles minutely but Jayne doesn't notice as he's stooping down to grab the knife. They both study it as Jayne turns it in his hands but even with Jayne's eyes on the blade, Wash gets the feeling that he's the only thing being studied. The blade has a thin streak of Wash's blood over it and Wash shudders in what he's going to call disgust even when he knows it isn't as Jayne tips the blade to run over his tongue.

"…Okay. I should… the cut because this kind of stings actually and- Wow. Right….um…"

His nervous babbling is cut short when Jayne lifts his wrist and gives it the same treatment as the knife. Tongue cleaning away the blood that was beginning to dry. Jayne gives a sort of sucking kiss to the wound that sends sparks through Wash's body. It takes him a second too long to jerk himself away and step back, hands raised to ward Jayne off.

"Okay! This just got way beyond creepy."

He needs Jayne to go away now but Jayne just locks gazes and steps back to him. Wash starts to protest again but the words are stopped by the press of the blunt side of the knife pressing against his lips.

"You talk too damn much."

"I talk when I'm nervous. It lifts the tension," he gasps when Jayne draws the knife down, the tip pressing just enough to leave a trail of white along his jaw and down his neck. Against every ounce of common sense that he'd thought he had, Wash tips his head back and invites the touch.

"Hope it doesn't relieve all the tension." Jayne is nearly growling at him.

The knife tip is pressing into the hollow of Wash's throat, a pinprick of pain that Wash gives into by tipping his head further back. A low noise emerges from the back of his throat when Jayne swoops in and laps up the fleck of blood that's formed around the knife's tip. The knife continues its trek downward as Jayne does this, pressing across Wash's chest.

This is surely some sort of madness. Jayne's hypnotized Wash with the shiny knife. Wash is sure that people can do that and there is no other way to explain this. He should be pushing Jayne away and asking him what the hell he thought he was doing. But he can't because Jayne is pushing himself away before Wash can manage to fire up enough brain cell's for the act. Wash watches blankly as Jayne sheaths the knife and gives Wash a smug look.

He starts turning to walk off the bridge, firing off the comment just as he's stepping out. "Oh, workin' on this boat's gonna be fun."

Wash watches him go, completely dumbstruck and more than a little turned on.

This is going to be interesting.

'Oh god, oh god…' And he's not really sure yet how the end of that sentence is going to go.


End file.
